


Asphodel Fields

by yunliu



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Inspired by Psycho Markhyuck edit, M/M, Mafia NCT, Slow Burn, Street Racing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24273142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunliu/pseuds/yunliu
Summary: His name was Mark Lee. A fresh face in their ranks that he'd never expected. And he doesn't belong here; not in the slightest-- and Donghyuck is determined to keep these roads to himself, something that he revels in. He's not going to give up anything for  Mark, as long as he'll be around.(They trust him. They like him. Donghyuck doesn't.)
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. How I found him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jenomeow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenomeow/gifts).



> Yes I accidentally deleted this at first, yes I am an a clown.  
> First posted 12 May.

At dark, the neighborhood fell back into its nightly rhythm. Nothing here ever fazed him anymore, as he had been living here since he was a child. Every daily occurrence here was like breathing to him, no matter how unnatural it might have seemed to the outside. Silence accompanied the emptiness. 

Jaemin leaned down to adjust the cuffs of his jeans. Absently, he reached to play with his necklace. Taeyong would scold him for not being on his guard, but it wasn't like anyone would find this place. To get to their base, one had to cross through a series of alleyways and a few secret doors. No one could possibly stumble across this place by accident. He reached for the weapon in his jacket, cool metal warming his hands. Hopefully it was just a drunken person he had to ward away.

From a distance, he could see someone heading down the street, someone that was completely unfamiliar. Jaemin, finally recognising the situation he was in, jumped up, bracing for the worst. 

The man couldn't have been much older than him, maybe around the average height. Has he noticed Jaemin yet? _Oh, of all the days I was complacent, it had to be today._

"Are you drunk?" Jaemin called out. His fingers incase the gun's grip. 

The man smiled at him innocently, almost relieved. "This must be the place." His walk had a little bit of a stagger in it. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little tired… it took me a while to get here." And his legs gave way, right in front of Jaemin’s horrified face.

This person wouldn’t be safe out here, he knew that. Taking the other in would be risking their secret being exposed. _And leaving him would risk his life_ , Jaemin’s conscience bit back sharply. Sighing, Jaemin had already made his choice, bending down to pick him up in his arms. Nobody was at home. No one else would be home for hours, knowing how they were. 

Jaemin pulled a blanket from his bed to cover him, laying him onto the couch gingerly. For the kind of weather, he wasn’t dressed very warmly. 

He looked much more peaceful in his sleep. Although Jaemin had met him covered by shadows, then, he still looked harmless. His hair was a bright colour, and he probably had big eyes. Taking in all of his features like that made Jaemin wonder how his appearance was as a child if he continued to look this sweet even after maturing.

The man stirred in his sleep, blinking slowly and widening his eyes, pupils dilating in the weakly lit room. He gasped, sitting upright. Jaemin was sitting on a chair next to the couch he was lying on. "What happened?" 

"You fainted suddenly," Jaemin answered. He fell quiet for a moment, brewing with so many questions. How did he get there? What were his intentions? But he just woke up, so it might be too much if he bombarded the other with questions. 

"What's your name?" 

Face softening at once at a familiar question, he smiled at Jaemin. "It's Mark. Mark Lee.” In this situation, he still had the cheek to look embarrassed, red ears and all. It was… endearing, to say the least. Jaemin hadn’t met anyone like Mark for a long time. “You’re wondering how I found this place, right?” Although he was in the warm heating of the house, he involuntarily shivered. As he hit the nail right on the head, Jaemin glanced at him expectantly. 

“I overheard someone,” Mark said simply. “I heard there was a way to get here from some guy in a pub, some area close to where people street race,” he continued offhandedly, waving a hand in the air. “It was pretty long, but I recorded it down and managed to make out the directions.” 

Hearing this made Jaemin’s blood run cold. Who on earth would say that out loud? Unless they had a death wish, then maybe. He forced himself to steady his voice. “How did this man look like, exactly?” Agitation was raw in his tone.

“It’s not his fault.” Mark protested, crossing his arms. “I happened to overhear. Besides, the establishment was way too dark to make out anything.” He blinked apologetically at Jaemin. “I must have walked the wrong way. I’m sorry for being a bother.” 

Now Jaemin was the one feeling apologetic. He barely knew Mark, but he had, strangely, been honest the whole time. It was difficult to even imagine Mark possessing any spite. “It must have been a long way from home. It’s dangerous here at night, especially for outsiders. Maybe you should sleep, and leave tomorrow morning.” He closed his eyes to feel the weight of sleepless nights resting on them. 

Mark opened his mouth to speak, yet couldn’t get a word out because Jaemin shushed him with a finger on his lips. “I insist. If you really want to see the street racing thing, I’ll teach you how to get there yourself another time. Okay?” Jaemin let his trademark million watt grin easily spread across his face. 

“Okay.” He heard Mark’s sheets rustle as he shifted, yawning softly. “You know, I never got your name.” 

Jaemin tried to make himself comfortable settling next to the seat’s side. “It’s Jaemin. G’night.” 

.

.

Sunlight glittered through the tall, looming buildings. He calmly shook out his hair, adjusting his overgrown fringe away from his face. Sitting on the ledge, his friend Yerim watched him bask in the sun like some preening cat. They were just lazing around at their usual spot, the second floor of an abandoned building, so old that you could see the metalwork of the foundation. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Hey you, we should get going already.”

He frowned. “We’ve been here for like, ten seconds though?” But Donghyuck got up anyway, padding towards the broken window. He hopped out, deftly sliding down a water pipe that ran down the walls and using a balcony as a ledge to land onto the floor safely. Hurriedly, she followed after him. This time she didn’t bother to do any of her special tricks as she headed down, something she loved to do to show off on a good day. Yerim immediately lifted her leg, seeing a thin trail of blood dripping from a cut on her ankle. 

“I think I cut myself with glass,” she said. “It must have been on the window.” 

He ended up piggybacking her all the way back to his house. “Jaemin is probably playing games on his console with his new best friend,” he had mused to her, wondering how Jaemin had befriended someone well enough to bring them to their house in the first place. In order to not give him a shock, Jaemin had told them about some guy coming to visit occasionally. It had been a month or so since he’d heard about this, so he hadn’t met this mysterious new person yet.

She tightened the grip of her legs around his waist, chuckling. “Is my Donghyuck-ie feeling left out? Don’t worry, I’ll always be your friend.” Although she teased him, he felt a warm thankfulness bloom in his chest. Donghyuck would never admit it, but he would take a bullet for the older girl. She had been like a sister to him once he arrived, up until now, always trusting him, caring for him in the ways some couldn't.

_She’s one of the only people you can count on anyway...isn't that right?_

From the back door, they slid into the kitchen. A first aid kit was under the refrigerator there. Donghyuck carefully treated Yerim's cut, then got up. Sounds of gaming echoed through the walls. He could hear them from downstairs. Walking up with her, he went upstairs to investigate the noise. 

Jaemin’s new friend was the first one to face him once the door opened with a shaky creak. The first thing Donghyuck's gaze met was this new person's eyes, although he never looked away, it was not unyielding. Instead it bore a tireless curiosity which made his heart beat a little faster. Must be too used to people looking at me like they're sizing me up, Donghyuck reflected. 

He pulled away from the screen, acknowledging their presence with a nod. "This is Mark. He's the same age as you, Yerim." The aforementioned boy greeted them with a small wave. "So, this is my brother, Donghyuck." 

This new guy was really easy on the eyes. He had kind eyes and prominent cheekbones. Although he had a roughened edge to his words, they were gentler than most that Donghyuck had heard: as if Mark was a bird trying to take flight without making his feathers rustle. But it was silly, here, it was just a couple of teenagers. They couldn’t do much without proper reason. 

If there was anyone who rubbed Donghyuck the wrong way, it was those who never seemed certain of themselves. It’s painful to watch them stumble over their own two feet. Usually it was some incident that made them so restrained. What else? People wouldn't be naturally shy just because. 

"Hello," Mark said, suddenly attentive. "Um... I'm sorry, I'm not very good at introductions." 

Both Jaemin and Yerim laughed. “Don’t mind him, he’s just a little shy.” Easily looping his arm through Mark's own, Jaemin beamed at him reassuringly. Pink coloured Mark’s face, and he stared at the floor. 

Donghyuck sat next to his brother silently. _If he’s that bothered, he should tell him. What use is there in keeping quiet?_

Picking at his nail, Mark spoke up. “My grandmother, she complained that I'm like this, because of my parents." A little louder, and he would sound like he was defending himself. "When I was uncomfortable speaking up, they would leave me be." 

An awkward silence fell upon the group. "So, parents, huh?" Yerim echoed. Jaemin swiftly elbowed her side, and she let out a small yelp. 

None of them bothered to talk after that, gaming long forgotten. Except for Mark. There was nothing much they could divulge about themselves without revealing too much. He told stories of school, how they celebrated holidays, many lovely things in fact, which Donghyuck didn't expect from a more soft-spoken person. Was it that he never had the chance to talk, or that he never bothered to? Regardless, the three of them gathered round like children listening to a fairytale.

Mark’s body was not hardened by regret or anger, rather, it appeared to be a belief in his ability that held him in place.

Donghyuck couldn't remember what it was like to go to school. As for his parents, he had involuntarily forgotten them for many reasons. It was his mind purposely storing away harmful memories, a self-defence mechanism of sorts. 

Something must have been triggered by Mark's story, because two faces rematerialised in his mind. People he didn't want to remember. 

Anger simmered lowly in his stomach. Closing his eyes, he carefully leaned on Yerim’s shoulder, carding his hand with hers, breathing in her cheap jasmine perfume. She simply let him. "I'm sleepy," he whined, willing his ears to stop listening. 

"Then go to bed." An unmistakable affection laid on thick in her words. "I'll wake you later." 

Mark had stopped talking at some point. Donghyuck didn't know exactly when. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open. 

"How did you end up here?" It was Yerim. "I mean, it's obvious you're not from this neighborhood. And Jaemin, I'm surprised you have a friend aside from me." 

"I'm not going to beat around the bush here. I came here to street race. Jaemin promised me he'd bring me to a race the next time there is one. I don't know when yet." 

"Yerim here happens to be our local reigning champion, and Donghyuck too. They're the best people to ask." 

"I've had a hand at it back in Canada. We can go tonight. I'm free. I'll make sure to bring my car… no, it's not that I'm very bad at it. I want you to judge my racing for yourself…" 

Their conversation seemed to continue fading, and fading, and then there was no more. 

.

.

A hand shook his shoulders hard. God, everything ached. Donghyuck woke up, burying his head into the softness. Wasn't he talking with Yerim? He could smell a faint whiff of her familiar sweet scent. She must have carried him to bed. 

His eyes drifted to the clock mounted on the wall. It was ten o'clock. He wasn't surprised he had slept that long. The day before, he stayed up the whole night. It was one of those days again, strung with beads of how life was like in the past. 

"Donghyuck," Jaemin chided. The boy glared at his brother without any malice. "Bring Mark with you to the race, please." 

Grogginess anchored him down to the bed. The drowsiness of waking up in the evening didn't help either. At least he could lie down for a little more, the races normally were during the wee hours of the morning to avoid police. Donghyuck, as much as he needed to get off the bed, didn't want to move. 

Yerim was sitting next to him, scrolling on her phone. "We have to go soon. Gotta show the newbie the place before that"

He let out a muffled noise in response. "Mark brought his car over,” Jaemin said.

"Okay, now we're talking!" Getting up, he walked to the entrance and peered out of the windows. Outside, a beautiful car was parked, shiny under the lamplight. He admired its wheels. "How'd you bring it all the way here without getting robbed?" 

Mark was bouncing on his heels, futile in his attempt to hide his childlike excitement. All this for a race. Donghyuck brushed his messy hair out of his face and shook his body a little, eyes still half open. Mark turned to face him, grinning and waiting by the door. He frowned. Was he really planning to go out like that? 

He headed into the room, re-emerging with a red bandana in his hands, folded neatly, and went up to Mark to put it on for him. Although he was puzzled, he didn't resist. Donghyuck tied it around his face, fingers brushing against Mark's neck. The younger withdrew quickly. It was low enough to see the slope of his nose, but still hid enough of his face. 

"Huh, he looks like a biker now," Yerim remarked. "For something you pulled out of your drawer, it looks good on him." 

Donghyuck took a black mask away from her hand and slipped it on. He could feel Mark following him with his eyes. Yerim linked her arm through his, the designs of her white mask matching his own. 

He got onto his own car, impatiently tapping his fingers against the wheel. _Why'd I have to babysit? I wasn't even planning to go racing today._

The alleys were barren, save for their own cars. Since the space was reduced, all three of them drove around in a single file. Yerim's shiny white model was in the front, while Mark flanked Donghyuck from behind. He could catch a glimpse of Mark from the car mirror, shoulders tensed and nervous. 

Scaredy-cat. He shouldn't even be here.

They finally reached a wider area, the road near the beach. Slowing down his car, he smiled at the sight of a familiar face. His cat-like friend, Ten, was waving to them from the side of the road, lamplight casting his shadow stark on the ground. Donghyuck got out, greeting with a friendly hello. 

He warmly welcomed Yerim in the same fashion before talking to Mark. "He's wearing a mask. So you brought him here, then," he said in the accented lilt of his. The man took a good look at the watch on his wrist, then looked back up, lips curving into a mischievous smile. 

"We have a lot of time to kill before the race. Why don't you two," he pointed to Donghyuck and Mark, eyeing their cars. "Go and have a test run before the rest of them come. He likes to challenge newbies around here." 

Yerim crossed her arms. "He's not the only one who wants to compete against him." 

Letting a confident grin creep onto his features, Donghyuck played with the car keys with one hand lightly. "I don't mind. Let's see. If I win, do my chores. If you win…well, you can think of that when you stand a chance against me."

The two of their cars drove up to the starting line. He wound down the windows, savouring the cool breeze. Ten strode up in front in between them. Waving up his arms as if they were flags, he swept them down magnificently and prepared himself for a hot rush of wind. They sped off, leaving a strong rush of gale behind. 

Wind tore at his hair. Wind whistled in his teeth, an off-tune song. Donghyuck felt a devious grin spread across his face, smooth as butter. Just like the one he had back when he started racing for the first time. Everything from his window became a whimsical blur of colours. He felt the sleepiness from his nap earlier melt off easily. Mark was still behind him, nowhere in sight, he realised with a twinge of satisfaction. 

The corner sharply tucked into the next path. Mark's headlights reflect off his visor. Donghyuck doesn’t bother to brace for possible impact anymore. It's far too late for that. He lightened his force on the accelerator and jerked the wheel far left.

Tires screaming, he violently swerved, barely hitting into a wall by the skin of his teeth. He felt the tires bending, losing, regaining traction one heartbeat after another. Adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream, cool and invigorating. 

But there's no time to celebrate. Donghyuck sped along easily, accelerating, past Mark who already had a steady lead ahead. The engine chattered. He saw Ten's silhouette. Determined, and still riding off his high, he passed the finish line with a loud screech. 

Yerim laughed, ruffling his hair when he got out. "God, Hyuck. You could have at least went easy on him! Mark did well though for someone unfamiliar with these roads."

Mark opened the car door. He tried to style his unkempt curls out of his face with his fingers, smiling sheepishly. "Wow, you were so freaking good!"

"Damn straight," Donghyuck remarked. "That wasn't my best, though. I still have a lot of tricks up my sleeve." 

Mark regarded him now, admiration in his eyes. “Feel free to go all out next time. I'll do my best to keep up with you." 

The younger stared on, amused. _Let's see if he can keep up with me. But first, he's got to catch up. You've only been here for a little while. What does he know, anyway?_

.

.

Sometimes, Jaemin and Mark would be together at home. Sometimes he would only find Mark. Which was annoying, he thought, but at least he could do the laundry. It was almost as if he didn't have his own apartment nearby. 

It was another one of those days. He entered, met by the sight of Mark on the couch, munching on some snack, sprawled out like he had lost all of his bones. More like a couch potato— no, a mashed potato? Donghyuck looked around for any signs of anyone else, and found none. Feeling sweaty, and kind of annoyed, he went to the bathroom for a shower. 

Hot water would do the trick. He liked it to be as warm as humanly possible, even in the summer. Nowadays, Donghyuck found the heater set to colder than he liked. That could only be because of Mark. The dial went back and forth across the days. Oh, and the towels. Mark had a habit of not hanging them to dry. So he had to dry himself with a yucky wet towel.

Donghyuck couldn’t help but scowl menacingly at the extra toothbrush below the basin mirror. What, did this guy think he lived here? Even if he paid rent, Donghyuck really really really didn’t want this arrangement to be permanent, not in the slightest sense. 

He felt his face with his hands, watching his reflection, praying that he wouldn’t look annoyed. It was quite a task. Head towel around his neck, Donghyuck settled down next to Mark on the couch. Unconsciously, the older shifted to make space for him. Donghyuck reached for the TV controller, running his fingertips along the silicon buttons. 

“What’s on Netflix these days,” he asked aloud to himself. 

“How about Howl’s Moving Castle?”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Donghyuck said immediately. Mark coughed apologetically, shrinking himself more to the corner. But he pulled up the search bar anyways, typing in the recommendation. A flush of colourful pixels spread throughout the small television screen. 

He rolled back his shoulders, wiggling his fingers. “Why are you here, when Jaemin isn’t?” 

“Ah, uh… Jaemin said that since this was closer to the street races, it would be more convenient for me to stay here whenever I wanted.”

“Did he give you a spare key?” He nodded. Donghyuck couldn't help letting out an exasperated, audible groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Seriously? Your family is not helping you with rent or something?” 

Mark raised his hands in surrender. “I swear, I didn’t mean to stay here so long. Your place is really cosy, though it’s pretty empty most of the time. I guess it sort of happened. Should I ask your oldest brother if I could stay here officially? Like pay a fee and stuff.” 

“What? No way I am gonna let you stay, this is no place for someone like you.” Donghyuck glowered at him, snatching a biscuit packet from his hand. He ate an oreo, vigorously crunching on the stuff. 

.

.

.

“BUT TAEYONG,” he sputtered indignantly. “You can’t let Mark stay here!”

“Oh yes I can,” Taeyong replied, matter-of-fact. “What’s the matter with you?” Arguing with him over the phone was quite a feat. Donghyuck briefly considered yelling louder to get his point across, but that would give him another scolding. Probably.

Taeyong sighed again, as if the whole world was on his shoulders. “We’re not even at home half the time. We have nothing incriminating at home. Don’t be childish, Hyuck.” 

He knew when he was defeated. He had no real excuse to want him out. Darn Taeyong and his kind heart!

He kicked the hoodie to the end of the room, irritated. Mark was leaving his stuff everywhere these days. And he was so horribly messy sometimes. Ever since Taeyong, kind-hearted as ever, opened his doors for Mark, his things were beginning to pile up. He loved his brother, but the older's decision to take him in was the worst he made in a long time. Mark was a terrible housemate. 

Well, nowadays he was there half the time. He didn't have to pay rent either. 

"You leave your stuff everywhere. I'm gonna have a migraine because of you," he barked. Mark merely groaned in response. It wasn't like Mark was having a hangover. He was just tired. 

Ever since Min — Mark's deceptively normal sounding alias — made his debut in the local racing scene, he spent a lot of time there, even more than Donghyuck. He was the new underdog, only proving his worth a month in. He took to the roads like a fish to water. And he kept the red bandana as well.

However, unlike clueless, carefree Mark, Donghyuck had more important things to do. 

He pulled on a leather jacket, tossed on a pair of converse highs and left for work. It was just a few buildings away.

For an underground hideout, constantly shrouded in perpetual darkness, Taeyong's room looked like a spotlight. To enter the room, all Donghyuck did was to knock. 

“Come in.”

Taeyong’s area had lighting harshly illuminating every face: a small bookshelf with a few dusty books organised by size, then alphabet, dark oak furniture and a pink blanket strung up by the wall. It looked so lived-in, as compared to his own room back at home, which was bare of any personal possessions. It made Donghyuck feel displeased. Knowing his older brother, too, he probably slept on the chair when he could. 

Multiple screens were mounted on his desk, a whole bunch of photographs pinned up on his board. Taeyong turned from his computer, smiling at Donghyuck. “Hello. You back to help me out?” 

Donghyuck nodded with a small smile of his own, pushing a chair next to Taeyong and pulling out a laptop from underneath. Watching Taeyong’s fingers fly across the keyboard effortlessly reminded him of just how practiced he was — he had been hacking and coding for years, even before he was sixteen. It was to provide for Jaemin and Donghyuck, both children, while he was a child himself. Whip-smart, you didn’t need to know him well to know Taeyong was a genius. He never made any coding errors, ever.

He was lucky to have such a great person taking care of him. 

Leaning against the older’s shoulder, Donghyuck let out a dramatic sigh, half-immersed in his coding. “Taeyong,” he pried. Taeyong did not spare a blink, absolutely no-nonsense today. “Why did you let some guy move in with us? In your room too?”

“Well, if I have space, I can let him in, right? I’m not even sleeping at home most of the time. So, I might as well.” He shrugged, relaxing his straight posture. “Besides, I had done the same thing with you. And look at the place you’ve made here with Jaemin and I.” 

Donghyuck huffed. “Right.”

“Are you upset? I’m going back home for the day, so I’ll cook your favourite. And I’ll make you some pork rib soup. How’s that?” 

“Not even Jaemin’s favourites?” Donghyuck pouted, but the corners of his mouth were beginning to turn upwards. 

“Not even Jaemin’s,” Taeyong reaffirmed, wrapping an arm around Donghyuck’s shoulder.

To be honest, Donghyuck wouldn’t even mind if Taeyong cooked him the worst dishes in the world. It would be so nice for him to just stay a night again. Ever since his group had lost its other hacker, Taeyong was basically overrun with work. Seeing him walking down the hallways increasingly became a rarity as well. He ought to see how annoying Mark was as well, back in the house. Then maybe he’d see where Donghyuck is coming from. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/okaeythen?s=09)
> 
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/okaeyy)


	2. One bite is enough

Being under the mafia’s protection was both a blessing and a curse. In the first place, it wasn’t like they would defend their honour or anything like that. Their name alone was enough to send chills down people’s spines. That was enough to have people avoid them. Anybody affiliated with them scared them. So on, so forth, being affiliated with whoever's affiliated with them as well. 

That meant Donghyuck was feared. Solely because of Taeyong. He was fine with that, at the start, but at some point he desired carving out a name for himself instead. 

If he respected Taeyong less, maybe he would be more tangled up in his affairs. Unfortunately, he didn’t. So when he got chased out of doing any work for the mafia, he accepted it without reluctance. 

That's how he ended up racing on the streets. And he wouldn't let _anyone_ , especially some soft spoiled boy, steal his thunder here, something that was in his lane and nobody else's.

Donghyuck swung the car door open, letting the crowd outside take in what they could of his appearance. He ran a hand through his hair and felt a smirk creep on, as Mark's own car stopped at the finished line as well. 

It was refreshing to be back here after some time, having been away because of his personal work. He won all the races that other people challenged him to, as a bonus. And he beat Mark. Not bad, after a long time.

Today he decided to dress more flashy, to celebrate his own return after this short hiatus. He was wearing a red bomber jacket, glittering with artfully placed golden sequins, the silhouette of a dragon embroidered on its back. Yerim said it flattered his skin tone. 

The other street racers silently observed him, as if three times weren't enough. Excessive staring wasn't going to improve their skills, anyways. Then there was Mark, all wide-eyed like some odd goldfish, still as curious like the first time they competed. 

“Alright! Everybody go home now,” Ten said, ushering the crowd away. They began to scatter and disperse. He joined Donghyuck, digging through his pocket for his wallet, pulling out notes and placing a whole wad into Donghyuck’s hand.

Ten patted his shoulder. “Some people chose to bet on Mark instead of you after seeing his performance recently. But you proved them wrong, again. Go and treat yourself with this,” he said. Donghyuck considered refusing it, but he accepted, crushing the cash up in his fist.

“I’ll make sure to earn you more next time,” he promised, already getting ready to leave. Someone tapped him on the back. When he turned around, he saw Mark looking back.

Mark’s red bandana made him appear a lot more mature, Donghyuck noted. “Do you want to get something to eat? I’m starving.” Seeing the younger’s blank expression made him show his teeth a little. “We can get tteokbokki?” There went him looking older.

“What?” Donghyuck drawled, annoyed. “Are you stupid or what? There’s nothing to eat around here.” He looked confused for a moment.

“No, I mean like in the city area. We’re just right across the street here, and I know a place that’s open till late.” 

The city, huh? He hadn’t been there for a long, long time. Taeyong had promised to bring him and Jaemin back there, once, but they never returned. 

For inexplicable reasons, Donghyuck found himself trailing behind, car parked in some snug corner somewhere. Aside from the occasional motorcycle speeding by on an otherwise deserted highway, it was almost like a ghost town. Glowing street signs decorated the perimeter. The rich aroma of food floated downstream, right to Donghyuck’s stomach. 

The twinkling bay of street lights. The shophouses cast stunted shadows across the pavement. It was all so familiar, but it couldn’t be. It had taken on a brand new sheen, too different to be remembered. He found his line of sight guided towards the short houses, the run-down two storey ones, painted some dull colour, with a staircase by the balconies to go up and down. It looked so terribly exposing, with all the tenants’ laundry hung outside for everybody to see. Almost like a motel. Almost like… 

“Donghyuck?” Mark’s voice was clear through the haze, and he had to blink a few times to focus again. “You’ve been spacing out for a bit.” Not saying a word, Donghyuck regained his pace, catching up to Mark with his hands in his pockets. 

The spicy rice cakes burn his throat. Donghyuck ate, relishing it right off the stick. They sit out the reach of a hot wave of air ballooning from the stall. Mark sat to his opposite, savouring some crab sticks, awkwardly quiet.

Donghyuck observed Mark’s features painfully shift, probably trying to come up with something to fill the silence. “Um, I was wondering, how’d you get so good at it?”

“At what? Nevermind, I’m just teasing you, I know what you mean.” He mindlessly waved a hand in dismissal. “Please, Mark, I grew up on those roads. Of course I’d be good at it. You’ve been here for what, two months? Come on.”

Mark did that thing. The thing when he stared at the floor, a little ashamed. It’s annoying as hell. “I want to become better. Street racing is so exciting. If I like it so much, and if I’m decent at it, why not become the best?”

“Just practice more, I don’t know. Just don’t do that thing again, staring at the floor like you just dropped your ice cream or something.” Donghyuck stood up, the chair pushed behind him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Let’s go.” 

It’s so quiet. He could hear the exact point when his feet hit the rough floor as he walked. The road seemed endless. To think that he used to live in a place like this felt so queer. How did he ever fit in? To be fair, he never did. If his mind wants to forget something, he’ll let it be. If it’s for the better, he’ll let it be.

The two of them reached a corner. Loud barking cut through the silence of the early morning, raucous and vehement. A large dog slipped into view, jaw dropped, deep snarl rumbling in its throat. Instantly, Mark froze up, taking a step back. 

It slowly rounded on them, like a predator would to its prey, fangs snapping. Donghyuck didn't understand dogs, but that one was evidently aggressive. Said reason didn't matter then, and he didn't want to walk away with any bite marks on any part of his body, thank you very much. 

“Can’t you do something,” Mark squeaked. His legs were about to run right out of that confrontation. “You have a gun, right? Maybe you can scare it away with a gunshot?”

Donghyuck whipped his head around, gaze frighteningly cold. As if that wasn’t going to wake the whole neighborhood up. “If you have nothing to say, shut it.” The dog began to get antsy, fixated on Donghyuck. 

There’s an alleyway just ahead. So he ran ahead, past the dog, who gave chase. He scaled up the dead end, up onto the wall. The dog furiously scrabbled in an attempt to reach Donghyuck. Finally, it whirled around. Mark started running. 

He let out a shout, dashing to join Donghyuck, out of the dog's reach. The younger grabbed his wrist, bringing him up. Donghyuck was already standing up. Mark placed a hand on his chest. He timed his breaths. One. Two. One.

A cold object was pressed firmly into the side of Mark's head. Donghyuck bent down, only the holster visible, emotion steeled into something unrecognisable.

“Tell me how you know about my gun _now_ unless you want me to blow your brains out.” 

It took a bit for his mind to stutter into thought, registering the situation he was in. Then Mark spoke. “Even if I tell you, you won’t shoot me?” He scooted a little behind, but Donghyuck moved the weapon as well. 

“Would you prefer a bullet through the frontal lobe, or the occipital lobe, Mark?” He quirked an eyebrow, tone lighter. “I don’t have all night. May as well take the risk.”

Mark swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. “I just saw it in your pocket. Okay?” He didn’t seem to be lying, so Donghyuck kept the gun back into a fold in the inside of his jacket. There was a chance he had simply been sloppy, and ended up with Mark seeing it. The thing was, Mark was completely left in the dark regarding what their family did. He didn’t need to know. 

That was exactly what they had feared. Now Donghyuck was the one to deal with this problem, although he had been against this from the start. If he had been the one to encounter Mark on that fateful night, instead of Jaemin, he was pretty sure he would have shot him on sight. But the information Mark knew wasn’t enough to become a threat. Yet.

Donghyuck held onto the wall, lowering himself down, reaching the ground. He offered a hand to Mark, who accepted it reluctantly. 

The sun was already starting to show in the sky, colouring the horizon a lighter shade of blue. Suddenly, Donghyuck felt so tired. He wordlessly beckoned to Mark to get a move on. The other kept lagging steps behind, too scared of overstepping any boundaries.

They managed to enter the house unnoticed. All the lights were off. Donghyuck hurriedly went upstairs, opening the door to his room. Jaemin was sleeping soundly. He was relieved to see that his brother wasn’t awake. 

He turned to Mark. “Come to Taeyong’s room. Let’s talk.”

Donghyuck sat cross-legged on the floor while Mark took the bed. Some of Taeyong’s old posters had been stripped off the walls, personal memorabilia scattered about the desk. At least Mark had left that intact.

“Could you tell me how you got a hold of that gun?” 

“Hmm.” Donghyuck thinned his lips. “I’m still thinking about whether I should tell you. If by telling you, I would trap you here.”

_Take a bite of food in hell, and you’ll be stuck here forever._

“How do you know I won’t be able to leave?” Mark ventured close to the edge of the duvet, his toes brushing against the carpet. And he leaned in closer to listen, as if disregarding the fact that he had been threatened with his life a little over half an hour ago. Donghyuck, honest-to-God, had no idea whether Mark simply lived life carelessly, or he just didn’t care about dying. Would Jaemin have handled this better? Because Donghyuck was at a loss at what to do.

“Simple. Because if I don’t get you, someone else will. Someone else, whose interest is to keep us here. If there is anybody who gets in the way of this...well, you get the gist.”

Donghyuck smiled dryly. “I wouldn’t even wish this on my worst enemy, don’t you have a family to go home to? Don’t you have people who love you and cherish you? You still have your studies. Is it worth sacrificing it all, to know some guy’s business?”

He gestured to his surroundings. “I used to sleep in this room, swaddled right up next to Taeyong and Jaemin, three of us in a bed. Then we bought the house and the whole place is ours. This was _our_ place. Now you stay here, and I can’t help but feel resentful.”

“It’s not my fault that he chose to be kind to me,” Mark rebuked. “Why are you so deathly stubborn? If you never try, nobody truly will be able to understand you, Donghyuck. Whatever it is, if you really wanted to get this secret off your chest, I’m sure you’ll be able to find a way.”

Jaemin called him innocent. Yerim called him starry-eyed. Perhaps a better word to describe him would be callow.

When Donghyuck closed the door, the room gradually went darker, darker, until he couldn’t see the other anymore. Once he let go of the handle, he slackened. He barely knew Mark, but his attitude made his skin crawl. No way in hell was he going to put up with this.

Donghyuck was a busy man. He was sure he could find something to preoccupy himself with. 

More work it is.

.

.

If Taeyong wasn’t there, generally, nobody had a problem with Donghyuck spending more time than usual at the mafia group’s hideout. The brothers, Jaemin included, were all involved in some part of the mafia’s process. 

“We're kind of like a nervous system," Taeyong said one afternoon. It was Jaemin’s sixteenth birthday, and they had decided to accompany their brother to the hideout. So all three of them were huddled around the packed lunch the oldest brought. It was amazing how bright Taeyong could be at times, while Donghyuck and Jaemin would sulk as if they were vengeful old men. 

“Yong, what’s that mean?” His face fell for a split second. 

“Ah, sorry.” Taeyong laughed with a guilty smile. “I nearly forgot you didn’t study that much.” He patted Donghyuck’s hair, taking more time to carefully go through the dark strands. “Basically, you’re the one who gathers the appropriate information, I translate that into a plan, and Jaeminie is the executioner. Although, I think these roles aren’t fixed. It can change regularly.” 

Donghyuck didn’t understand why Taeyong had hesitated in letting them try this earlier, because the two of them were, not to brag, pretty good at this. 

“Hey,” he greeted, seeing Yuta by the door. The man was engrossed in some work on his computer. 

Yuta waved back. He had known him for a long time, but Donghyuck was only starting to get to know him now, mainly because he began showing up more. All he knew was that Yuta was about Taeyong’s age, from Japan, and that he started working there a few years ago. 

All in all, Yuta was a pretty good coworker. As the senior, he already knew what they had to do by the time Donghyuck came in. That made their jobs so much easier. 

“You know, Suh was interested in having you be more involved in more operations,” Yuta said. “Kidnapping stuff and all that jazz.” Donghyuck peered to listen. “What do you think?”

Aside from carrying out operations, Donghyuck liked to think that the time all three brothers had spent here was relatively blood-free. Even Jaemin. Street racing wasn’t a part of the final plan anyways. He would have to move on eventually, to bigger, bloodier, more complicated plans if he ever wanted to advance. 

“I like the sound of that,” he remarked. “Glad to see how you guys are acknowledging my potential.”

“Trust me, kid.” Yuta blew away a strand of hair out of his eyes absent-mindedly. “We’re already acquainted with your talents. If not for a certain someone, we would have asked you a lot earlier.” 

A little digging in the cupboard underneath found him a file, thick with information. Donghyuck flipped through the paperwork with ease, glossing over all the minor details. He furrowed his brows. Hell. How much earlier would they have asked? He was pretty certain that he could have done this when he was younger. It almost felt like an insult to his skills now, he fretted to himself. 

“I was wondering, when were you originally going to assign me an operation like this?”

“Honestly?” Yuta leaned in, placing his elbows onto the table, hands clasped together. “About three months in when you started helping your brother with his assignments. So like two years ago, give or take.”

Donghyuck wished he hadn’t asked, because for the next hour that’s all he could think about. There’s a lot of things you can do in two years. There’s some random tennis ball on the floor: he rolled it around with his sole, staring at his keyboard most of the time. 

The clock struck two. Taeyong peeked his head out of his space, glancing over to the pair. “Do you want to go eat together?” Donghyuck folded his hands, silent. There’s a pregnant pause till Yuta got up, smiling lazily. 

“I would love to,” he announced, linking arms with Taeyong and striding to the base’s small kitchen. Taeyong’s cheeks reddened slightly. Although he ended up getting carried away by Yuta, he continued to look behind. Donghyuck didn't give him a chance, making sure that the older man couldn't see him properly. 

Donghyuck felt bitterness rise up like the aftertaste of sour milk. He glared at the bright screen. In the humidity of this room, he felt sweat stick to his skin. If he was going to do this years late, he was going to do an excellent job. 

And sent. His phone dinged. It’s a text from Jaemin. 

Speaking of the devil, Jaemin haphazardly stumbled into their part of the office, smelling a whole lot like iron. His arm had a gaping wound, jean jacket sleeve rolled up. His nose was caked in dried blood. Donghyuck couldn't help to let an expletive slip out of his mouth. But Jaemin was completely unperturbed, still dressed down in everyday clothing. 

“Sit here,” Donghyuck said, getting up. He returned with supplies. Thankfully, it wasn’t that severe. To bandage it, he stuck a couple of plasters in a row, one after another, covering the wound. He ran a finger along the band aids to stick it down, Jaemin wincing at the slightest pressure. Once it was done, he drew back his arm, looking at it. 

“Jaem, how is it?” Donghyuck leaned towards his chair. “All these missions. Do you ever feel scared?”

Jaemin smiled mirthlessly. “I think so. I did feel scared at first. Why? What’s up?” It’s difficult to hide things between each other: the unfortunate result of spending so much time together in the past. Donghyuck felt his nonchalant facade slip away easily, and he laughed too, guilty as charged. 

“Nothing much, not at all.” Jaemin stuck his bottom lip out at him, arms crossed. “What? I want to take on more missions, that’s all. It would be cool though, to do what you do. It’s not necessary, but I can’t simply prove my worth through my brains alone.” 

The taller shook his head. “Nah. Physically, I’m pretty sure you’re completely capable of doing what I do, though you’re lacking a bit of practice. The thing is,” Jaemin said, tapping his temple with a finger. ‘It’s all up here. You gotta desensitise yourself first.”

“How? Don’t leave me in suspense.”

“You actually have to do it, silly. It comes with experience.” Donghyuck felt himself start frowning again, but there was no point in sulking. If that’s what it took. “You want to accompany me to a mission? Since my arm is wounded, I might need some extra help.” 

“Of course!” He beamed, clinging onto Jaemin’s working arm. “God, what would I do without you? When do we start?” 

.

.

“HEY!” A disembodied voice echoed through the alleyway, becoming louder by the second. Donghyuck tore after Jaemin, trying to follow his lead. The sound of hurried steps boomed like a heartbeat. He couldn't help but turn behind for a second, seeing a figure on their heels— it surged forward suddenly. “What are you doing?” 

Donghyuck’s heels skidded forward. His neck tightened: his feet fell over one another, a vice grip holding him back. He turned around, trying to aim for the voice’s owner, who had a tight hold around his collar. He dealt a single, lusty blow to the other’s arm, alleviating the pressure from his neck. But this person is stubborn, struggling with Jaemin’s wrists, like an eel out of water. Jaemin is already trying his best to contain him, but the large-set person will wriggle his way out eventually. 

_The weapon is with me_ , Donghyuck remembered, cold blood flooding his veins. He pulled it out. The attacker escaped Jaemin’s grip. Rushing forward, Donghyuck slid the knife into the person’s stomach, a bit under where the belly button would be. Then he slid it out, and struck the same spot again. 

The attacker’s eyes go wide, crumpling to the floor like a rag doll. Red bloomed on his shirt. A smell of iron soured the air. Donghyuck looked at the knife for a beat, a short blade covered in garish scarlet. 

Jaemin grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward. “Stop daydreaming! Let’s go!” 

They ran for a while, slipping into another alley, safe, breathing hard. Panting, Jaemin glanced over at his brother. A shadow cast over Donghyuck’s eyes. He was quiet. Too quiet. “Sorry. That wasn’t meant to happen. We were just a bit sloppy, that’s how her neighbour noticed.“

Donghyuck looked up, eyes glassy and dark. “That wound, on his stomach, it… it was just like Mom’s, just like it,” he murmured. “They got rid of her, like that. Is he, was that guy, is he going to die?” 

“Give me that,” Jaemin said, removing the knife from Donghyuck’s hands, throwing it onto the floor with a loud clatter. He reached out, pulling Donghyuck into a tight hug, stroking his hair gently. “He’s going to live Hyuck, maybe walk away with a scar, he’ll be fine, okay? Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it." 

Donghyuck was weak in his arms, almost boneless, disbelieving, stomach squeezed dry. He’s going to relieve these memories again, he realised. It was only a matter of time. 


	3. Two steps too close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark meets Renjun. It's the beginning of an unexpected friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated birthday to Haru. I love you.

When Mark wanted to race there, he hadn’t planned on making a new friend, namely, Jaemin. The way they met was funny, really. In his search for where the street races might be, he followed the instructions of some man in a seedy pub. He hadn’t anticipated it to be so complicated. Only clothed in a thin sweater and slacks, he spent a long time walking around, trying to find it. And he ended up collapsing in front of Jaemin. Although the younger had promised to take him to a race, it was about a month until they actually went there. He kept returning to Jaemin’s company.

He had moved to a quieter part of Korea, just urbanised enough to not be a rural town and only a little drive away from the city. It was meant to only be a little while. There was word going around that people held street races on the daily. The reason was silly. To be as high as a kite, riding off the feeling of speed, felt so special. Kind of like when he lived back in Incheon with his grandmother during the summer holidays as a ten-year-old. She would go to the markets in the mornings on a bicycle, and he would cling onto her back tightly all the while, cold air kissing his face all over.

It was nice. Jaemin’s brother started letting him stay over, even giving him a place to sleep in for no charge, he started racing again. Of course, it came with a catch. That was Jaemin’s other brother, Donghyuck. The mean one. He didn’t even piss Donghyuck off, but the other one seemed to hate him. At first, he appeared to be a little short-tempered. Unfortunately, he just turned out to be petty. Whatever he had against Mark, he was just unreasonable. 

If he wasn't careful, Donghyuck might kill him in his sleep. Maybe. 

Then Donghyuck swung the door open, slamming it against the wall. Mark, still half-asleep sitting on the floor, woke up, startled. Narrowing his eyes, Donghyuck looked over at him, annoyed as usual. “Get up, sleepyhead,” he yelled. “Jaemin wants to go out. And he wants you there.”

Mark stretched his arms. He couldn’t help falling asleep often, because he had been staying up most nights. He dug through his clothes to look for something presentable. Thinking about hanging out with Donghyuck made himself want to crawl back into bed. What were they going to do? 

“Nice to see you up,” Jaemin was sitting on the couch, smiling sweetly, more than usual. Donghyuck was facing the window. “I want to introduce you to someone I know. I think she’ll be of great help to you.” 

They walked through a couple of different paths. The buildings shifted into something more bright, something away from their seedy neighbourhood. Jaemin led them past the many shortcuts, into the heart of the alleyways, right out onto the open street. People were milling around the few shophouses, some smoking, some talking. Jaemin sped up, walking up to a petite girl. Although her stance was aloof, her pretty eyes lit up with recognition. 

“Hey, I’m Renjun.” She reached out a hand to Mark for a handshake. "I work on cars. Since you're new to this, I assume you haven't had your car modified much, have you?" 

"That is true," Mark said. He took notice of her messy ponytail, the rolled-up sleeves, the wrench in her jean pocket. "Jaemin, are you here just to make a sale off of me?" 

"What, no." Jaemin laughed. He's probably telling the truth, but Mark had a feeling that the younger had another reason. 

"I've heard about you. You're making quite a name for yourself these days. Your alias is Min? Yerim told me." Mark nodded, feeling bashful. Had he been doing that well these days? All the extra time he spent had paid off after all. 

"Yet he can't beat me," Donghyuck cut in, having been silent all the while. Mark crossed his arms. 

"Anyways...Mark, why don't you tell me how you ended up coming here. Or your life story. Something like that. You seem like you have a lot to say," Renjun said. All these new people he met always asked him questions like that, Mark realised. Why? 

He relaxed a little. "Well, I'm from Canada." She made a noise of appreciation, saying something under her breath he didn't catch. "I'm here on a gap year, so I can unwind, maybe do a thing I want to do, but never had time for. Nothing serious."

"I can respect that. It's a change of environment, and most importantly, you're taking this time to do what you love." She moved her hands from her sides, propping them on her waist. "A choice I would have made if I had one," she finished wryly. She was pensive for a moment. 

Jaemin cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, but I have to steal Renjun for a bit to talk in private. Please excuse me!" Even Renjun was surprised but didn't resist Jaemin pulling her away to the other side of the street. 

A feeling of dread went down his spine. He turned around to see Donghyuck, the only one left behind. You could practically see steam billowing out of his ears as if he was overheating. Mark opened his mouth to speak. But Donghyuck gave him a swift look so venomous that the words failed to form in his throat. 

"God," Donghyuck muttered, clenching his shaking fists. "You could be anywhere but here. Why are you here?" 

"What's wrong with you this time, Donghyuck?" Mark gritted out, the mood soured. Frustration from the previous incidents stacked up like a ton of bricks, hitting all at once. His voice grew louder. "What did I do wrong? Why are you always angry at me?" 

"I don't get it!" Donghyuck stiffly advanced. Mark was sure that Donghyuck was going to hit him. Mark waited. Then he opened his eyes, seeing Donghyuck suddenly freezing up, suspender in motion. 

"You just standing here makes me angry, ha," Donghyuck said, voice steady. 

"Stop it, Donghyuck,” Mark said. “You sound like a child. If you want me out, talk to your brother!" 

Idiot. Donghyuck Lee was an angry, upset idiot. He couldn’t deal with his emotions well. He hated people for no reason. Mark really didn’t like Donghyuck. Not at all. 

Shouldn't he be the one yelling and snarling at the younger boy? He was the one who got threatened, the one who got yelled and cursed at for no reason. He had thought Donghyuck was going through a rough patch, but it appeared that he was always this way. 

They snapped out of their aggressive stances when they heard light footsteps approaching. 

"We go away for a few minutes and you guys are already looking like you're about to start fighting," Renjun sighed. She returned, this time with her hair a little messier, small strands sticking out of her braids. Jaemin was nowhere to be seen. 

Mark looked behind her. "Hey, um, you came here with Jaemin, right?" 

"You've got to be joking. Jaemin?" She whipped around to look behind her. No signs of him. "I swear he was just behind me.” Ruffled, she crossed her arms. “Jaemin, this isn’t funny. Come here now. Hey!”

A moment of silence. 

Donghyuck stood still. Mark expectantly faced where Renjun had come from, waiting for a figure to appear. “You don’t think…”

“But we’re in broad sunlight,” she said, affronted. “That doesn’t make any sense.” 

_Isn't their reaction far too extreme for something this small? Maybe Jaemin had gotten lost or something. The streets are long and far._

“I’m going back.” She pulled up her long sleeves, suddenly looking much younger than she was. It was the oversized, loose clothes, he thought, and that little voice of determination. 

Donghyuck reached out and pulled on the end of her shirt. “Are you crazy? No way. Let me handle this. Sicheng will kill me if anything happens to you, anyways.” He reassumed that annoyingly assertive stance of his. “Lee. Take her to my house, will you?”

“What?” Mark blinked. “You could at least tell me why?”

He waved indifferently, but Mark could sense he was starting to get a little antsy, shaking his arms out. “You’re kidding. As I said, you don’t belong here. You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Hey,” she spat, but Donghyuck was already walking away. For a split second, she looked conflicted, then her features steeled together roughly. “Let’s go.”

She stormed off, him on her heels. “Why does no one explain anything to me,” he groaned but followed regardless. 

_____________________

Ever since they had got back, Renjun had gone into Jaemin’s room, laying on the bed, buried her face into one of his numerous plushies and fell quiet. Mark wasn’t very sure whether it was appropriate for a girl to go into a guy’s room by herself, so he sat cross-legged next to the bedside on the floor. 

It’s been a while. Mark was starting to get worried that Renjun had been smothered to death by accident and he was lying next to a dead body. Not to mention that this place was really creepy. He had been in Jaemin and Donghyuck’s room before to play video games, but that was before Jaemin had become busy again. It had been a good few weeks since they had a gaming session. 

“Um, Renjun?” He gently tapped on her shoulder. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, you’ve been quiet for a long time and I can’t help but worry a little.”

Her words were muffled. “Dandy.” 

“Could you talk to me?” She slowly sat up, her hair even messier than before, having a great likeness to a maiden disturbed in her slumber. “I’m kind of creeped out in here.” 

“Okay. Only for you.” Brushing back her unruly locks, she crawled out of the bedsheets and sank down next to him. “I owe you one, anyway.” 

Seeing the confused look on his face, she spoke again. “I’d like to say thank you for bringing Jaemin out of his shell. It’s been a while since he’d had a friend. And he seemed so much happier for a while. He likes you a lot. He forgot to call me for a week because he was so preoccupied with you.”

Mark could feel the tips of his ears warm. “Really?”

“Really.” She smiled. 

He smiled back, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head against them to talk with her better. “Don’t you count as his friend too?”

This time it was her turn to be at a sudden loss of words. She played with a stray thread off the hem of her pants, tying the little thread into even smaller knots. “Would it be bad to say that I honestly don’t know? It’s kind of complicated. I mean we’ve known each other for some time, but we’ve never properly defined what our relationship is like.”

“Maybe you’re being too cautious with this. You don’t seem like the type,” he said. “What’s stopping you from asking?”

She lightly bumped his shoulder with her fist. “Ah, seriously. You’ve only known me for an hour and you’re already psychoanalysing me,” she said, but there was no malice. 

"How about this," he said. "You tell me what's going on and I'll try and help you. I'm an outsider, after all. I'll be less biased." 

She shook her head. "Nuh-uh. I barely know you. Another time." 

They sit in awkward silence for another few minutes. Mark rose from his place, looking around. Now that he thought about it, he had never really explored this place. Whenever he had been here, it had only been for gaming, and he didn’t bother with much. Renjun hadn’t protested, so he supposed it was okay. 

It didn’t look very lived-in. To be fair, Jaemin was only home half the time. He could tell the wallpaper was poorly put up, the edges peeling off the walls. When he leaned down to pick at the corner, it unrolled slightly to reveal a yellowing wall, a cigarette burn imprint on it. It was covering up the traces of an older house, Mark realised. He experimentally pressed the toes of his feet onto a wooden plank that stuck out a little from the rest, hearing it squeak. 

His hand went forward to try and pull out the corners, but they’re fastened down by a few rusty nails. He could leave this alone, but Mark had a feeling that he might want to investigate this later. 

Out of the blue, the door opened, two shadows peering into the room. Renjun immediately got up to look, leaving him behind. 

Mark could make out Donghyuck's silhouette venturing further inside the room. The younger boy’s dark eyes seemed to glow under the little light that peeked from underneath the blinds. He felt himself inadvertently flinching at the unwanted gaze, as if he was a nocturnal animal caught underneath daylight. 

"Now, don't snoop," Donghyuck drawled coldly. Not saying a word, Mark hated himself in that moment for reacting, lest he gave even the slightest ounce of satisfaction. "Aren't you gonna ask us where we went?" 

"I have more pressing things, right?" He forced his voice to sound more flat, like he didn't care. 

"Huh," Donghyuck murmured. "You know now. Make sure it stays this way." He glanced back at the outside, then frowned deeply, making a line pop out. "Should you go back with Renjun?" 

"How about you and Jaemin," Mark replied. 

"We have our own business, you two run along," Donghyuck said, waving a hand dismissively. "We'll see each other later."

Jaemin must be back, then. Mark got up, shoulder brushing against Donghyuck’s own as he made his way towards the hallway. 

Mark could only see Renjun’s back. The window was slightly ajar. He could smell the earthy drench of rain. “Renjun, Donghyuck said we should go,” he echoed. “Do you want to go?”

“Okay,” Renjun repeated, sounding awfully detached. “Let’s go.”

_____________________

There was a smouldering sense of annoyance he could feel off Renjun, coming in angry waves. So he kept his distance, only staying a few footsteps behind her. It must have been because of Jaemin, then. She seemed nice enough though, so he could try and distract her for a bit. 

“Where do you normally do your repairs?” Mark walked ahead, tilting ahead her way and managing a slight smile. “I’d like to take a look.”

“Oh,” she said. “Sure, then.”

She led him through, her little feet tapping away at the floor as she hurried through. People around here tended to be secretive. Out a flight of shuttered stores, hers was the only one open. The walls were unpainted, probably barely touched. It was a shop extending into the pavement with a small apartment upstairs. Mark saw a man servicing a car underneath, only his feet peeking out.

“Sicheng,” she called, stopping. “I’m back.”

“Huh,” he said, still working at something on the bottom of the car. Mark realised it had its license plate stuck over with tape, typical of streetcars he would see. “I thought you were going to be out for a while?”

“They got busy. Anyways, I brought someone here. His name is Mark, and he’s Jaemin’s new friend,” she said. “I’ll be showing him around. Is that okay?”

“Jaemin again,” Sicheng said slowly. “Okay, just be careful.”

She went further into the garage. It’s old and musty inside. Although it was small, and there was little furniture, they were organised neatly and all of the same things were placed together. She sauntered over the spare parts on the floor easily, over the gears and tools. Mark stubbed his toe on a misplaced pebble inside. “What kind of repairs would you like? We do all kinds of modifications, as long as we can manage it.”

“Hm, I’m not sure yet,” he intoned thoughtfully. The topic had never truly crossed his mind, even while back in Canada. It had come off as a waste of money initially. After all, whatever quality your car was at completely depended on how it was when you bought it, and every modification to improve a certain aspect always came with its own tradeoffs. But it could be worth a shot. 

As cool as all the work in here seemed to be, Mark didn’t understand much. He beckoned to the entrance of the shop, and they wandered out to the edge of where the beginning of the store met the pathway. He sat down, combing the surroundings with his eyes. 

Beads of the fading sunlight looked like they were disappearing into the streetlight, the only one on the street that lit up. Mark had never seen the edges of the world covered up by night quite like this in his life. He stuck his feet out into the overgrown grass and sighed. 

Sicheng, or at least what Renjun said he was, sliding out from the bottom of the car. He looked like he couldn’t be older than twenty-two or so. 

"So you're Mark," he said, reaching out a dusty hand to shake Mark's. "You're new, I presume?" 

"Yes. You're Sicheng?" Mark nodded. "Um, I didn't mean to come here, but here I am. Maybe you should ask me about what modification I can add to my car." 

"By the way, I'm Renjun's cousin, as good as her own brother really," he added. "Calm down, I don't think I'm that eager for a new customer yet." 

Renjun couldn't have been much older than Donghyuck and Jaemin. But none of the three attended any schools, and Mark wondered if they had ever been to one. During this time, they should be in school. But they're not. Had they ever felt bad for hearing about his own stories, and said nothing? 

She walked up to them, gracefully sitting down next to Mark and also watching the sky, pensive. There's so many things he hadn't seen, he thought. Like in this side of town, after growing up in an affluent part for most of his life. 

"Where would I ever choose to test drive my car by myself," Mark murmured to himself. 

"That's easy," Renjun interjected. "There's this empty expressway leading out of here, you should go and take a look. Maybe now." 

"Now? But I didn't bring along my car," he said, confused. "Yours, then?" 

______________

It's a gorgeous burst of orange and red onto the skyline. Mark drove the car slowly, smoothly gliding along the road. They're right to recommend here to drive, he thought. There's barely any vehicles passing by this speedway, the buildings far and in between. 

This would be a nice place to reflect. Or have their own races. Maybe Mark should come here for often. If he ever got a modification, he should come here. 

Renjun was in the passenger seat, a seatbelt on. "Go faster," she urged. "We've had enough time admiring." 

He obeyed, pressing his foot on the accelerator. It took him a beat later to manually change the gear, because it's an older model.

It's a weird fit in this car, everything a little smaller than he's used to. It only made sense that he struggled to control it, the wheels bumping over a pebble and making the whole car jump in its bones. He felt the exact moment when its metal shell slammed into its parts with a thunk. 

"Sorry," he shouted, surprised. He hurriedly evened out his pace, resuming traction. The road would roll on forever, it seemed, no twists or turns. 

Although there was no need to, Renjun yelled back. "It's fine, keep going," she retorted. He had a feeling that she might be using him to blow off some steam, to lose herself in the exhilaration of speed. He didn't blame her. He would do the same thing. 

"Wait, let me take a look," she said suddenly, turning around to look at the back from the window. "Holy shit! Mark, move faster!" 

There wasn't any time to react. They practically flew down the road, and Mark was trying his best not to bite off too much than they could chew, lest he lost control.

He tried to keep an eye on the car mirror. "Stop looking behind oh my god," she hissed, kicking the back of his seat. He wished that he could see what she was feeling right now. "Eyes forward!" 

"Will you guys ever tell me anything," Mark mumbled. Out of the long stretch of straight path, it's beginning to turn outside of town. At this rate, they're about to slip out of the grasp of where they had come from. What had they gotten themselves into?

"Fine," Renjun muttered. "I think it might be a car from Aedes."

"Aedes? What's that?"

"Crime organisation that runs most things here. The less you know, the better," she said, then she checked the rear again, heaving a loud sigh. 

An amber engine blinked to life on the dashboard. They're going to run dry soon. 

"I hope they won't have any weapons," Renjun said quietly. Mark's heart jumped in its cage but he stilled his movements, and went on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be directly continuing off the end of this one. Sorry, I will try and update more regularly..

**Author's Note:**

> ❤  
> [ twitter](https://twitter.com/okaeythen?s=09)  
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/okaeyy)


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